


Jump Out the Window, Then Put the Mask On

by cinematicara



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, I'll probably add more tags as I go lol, Major Character Undeath, Miles saves Peter, Peter lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-18 03:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17573240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinematicara/pseuds/cinematicara
Summary: He weighs the options in his mind. It’s an impossible decision. On one hand, he could get himself to safetyandsave Brooklyn from apparently being sucked into a black hole, but on theotherhand… Spider-Man is dying; that much is clear to Miles. Despite his insistence that everything is going to be fine, the man’s breathing is becoming more labored by the second, so if Miles is going to save him he’ll have to act fast. Looking towards the still form slumped against the debris, Miles makes his decision.Basically, Miles saves RIPeter :')





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There really aren't enough fics out there where RIPeter lives and that bums me out so... I figured I'd contribute. I mostly have where I want to go with this all figured out, but honestly we'll see. I'd like to see Peter get the chance to train Miles like he promised, as well as interactions between him and the other spider-people. Ugh this is so self-indulgent, I just really wanted to see him live. He was such a sweetheart for the five minutes he was in and deserved to live!! 
> 
>  
> 
> I don't know _anything_ about emergency procedures other than what little I learned in my high school health class, and webMD and wikihow can only help so much. Keep that in mind as you read.
> 
>  
> 
> Work and chapter titles are all from various songs on the Spider-Verse soundtrack

“I thought I was the only one. _You’re like me.”_

Spider-Man’s voice is breathless as if he can’t quite comprehend the words coming from his own mouth. Miles understands the feeling. He remembers the confusion he had felt back in his dorm as he had begun to realize what was happening to him. _How can there be two Spider-Men?_ he had thought.

“I don’t wanna be,” Miles admits reluctantly.

“I don’t think you have a choice, kiddo. Got a lot going through your head I’m sure.”

The gentle kindness in his voice helps Miles feel at ease, his initial apprehension slowly beginning to melt away.

“Yeah,” he manages to respond.

“You’re going to be fine,” Spider-Man says, raising his hands reassuringly. “Um, I can help you. If- if you stick around I can show you the ropes.”

Miles can hear a trace of eagerness in the man’s voice as if he’d been waiting all his life for someone like him to come around.  Miles realizes with a start that he probably _had_ been waiting all his life, or at least since he’d become Spider-Man.

“Yeah,” Miles says again with a smile and a nod.

Suddenly, a thundering noise overhead draws Miles’ attention away from the crouched figure in front of him. The enormous machine that had caught his attention when he’d first stumbled into the room appears to be powering up, a wide tube-like structure extending out from it.

“I just need to... destroy this big machine real quick before the space-time continuum collapses. Don’t move,” Spider-Man says casually like he’s telling Miles that he’s off to grab some lunch, rather than single-handedly take down a 200-foot metal machine. He leaps onto one of the several barrels that occupies the space on the scaffolding before turning back to face Miles.

“See you in a bit,” he says over his shoulder as he leaps towards the machine, shooting webs and climbing scaffolding as necessary. It’s such an impressive sight, Miles can’t help but let his mouth hang open as his eyes follow Spider-Man’s ascent.

 _How does he do that?_ he wonders in awe as the scarlet-clad figure crawls along the ceiling.

Suddenly, a purple blur streaks across the ceiling towards Spider-Man,  knocking him from his upside-down perch. Miles can hear Spider-Man shouting at the newcomer, although he can’t make out any specific words. Miles flinches involuntarily as the purple figure roughly shoves Spider-Man onto the top of the machine, where he narrowly avoids being struck by one of the massive spinning apparatuses. Spider-Man springs to his feet, ready to re-engage with the villain. It registers with Miles just how _cool_ it is that he’s witnessing an actual battle between Spider-Man and one of his enemies. Without taking his eyes off the scene, he raises his phone and starts recording.

He’s startled out of his amazement by the Green Goblin’s abrupt reentry into the fight. He swoops down and seemingly pins Spider-Man to the top of the device. Miles instinctively shoves his phone back into his pocket, not bothering to stop the video.

 _I should go up there and help him,_ he thinks, slowly rising to his feet. However, when he remembers that Spider-Man has held his own against innumerable villains over the last decade while Miles has only had his powers for a few hours he reconsiders.

 _Who am I kidding, I should_ **_not_ ** _do that._

The crackling of an intercom drags Miles’ attention away from the trio on top of the machine. The sound that’s being broadcasted throughout the room is a man humming what appears to be Spider-Man’s theme song. The hairs on the back of Miles’ neck start to rise.

“Watch out, here comes the Spider-Man,” the man on the intercom finishes. “You like my new toy? Cost me a fortune, but hey, can’t take it with you right?”

The speaker appears in a window far above Miles’ head. There must be some kind of observation deck up there. The man is huge, like _insanely huge,_ his body quickly becoming the only thing visible in the window.

“You came all this way,” he continues. “Watch the test. It’s a helluva freakin’ light show, you’re gonna love this.

The moment the last word leaves his mouth something peculiar starts happening to the main room. The machine begins to emit a low whine which gradually ascends in pitch, the familiar sound of a motor starting up. The round indentations on the walls and ceiling start to light up until the whole room is shining brilliantly, forcing Miles to squint in order to see.

“ _NO, don’t do this!”_ The frantic scream had come from behind Miles. Spider-Man.

“Stop!” Spider-Man continues to yell desperately. “You don’t know what it could do, you’ll kill us all!”

A panel in the ceiling opens and everyone watches as a comically small box lowers down into the cavern. It strikes Miles as being anticlimactic. That thought is quickly forgotten as the machine turns all the way on for the first time.

Two brightly colored beams are shot out from each side of the room, colliding in the middle with enough force to create a small, ongoing explosion where they meet. The light now filling the previously dark room is so overwhelming Miles has to throw an arm up to shield his eyes.

Once his eyes have adjusted, Miles turns his attention up to the beam. It amazes him how beautiful and terrifying it is all at once. Suddenly, that tingling sensation is back, sending a wave of anxiety crashing over him. He feels compelled to look up, and as he does he sees a loose tile from the ceiling plummeting towards him. He has just enough time to grab onto a nearby pole before the platform he had been standing on is completely demolished. As he clings to the scaffolding, Miles re-positions himself so he can still see what’s going on in the main chamber. He turns just in time to see another piece of the wall drop onto Green Goblin’s head, freeing Spider-Man.

Miles’ heart is pounding like crazy, the adrenaline from his near-miss still flowing rapidly through him. He observes as Spider-Man brings himself to his feet and fires a web up at the ceiling. To Miles’ horror, the Green Goblin recovers quickly, swooping jerkily towards Spider-Man and snatching him out of the air with one of his large, almost talon-like, hands. Miles’ eyes widen as the enormous creature circles down towards the violent explosion of energy below him and shoves Spider-Man into it.

He can hear the man at the window yelling angrily for the Goblin to stop, but the monster pays him no attention, he simply thrusts Spider-Man deeper into the beam. For the millionth time that night, the hairs on the back of Miles’ neck stand at attention, warning him that something is about to go horribly wrong. And then _everything_ does.

A wave of hot air washes over Miles as the machine explodes, nearly ripping him off the pole he had been clinging to. He closes his eyes and wraps his body around the scaffolding, ducking his head to avoid getting a faceful of debris. When he opens his eyes Spider-Man and Green Goblin are gone, along with the large man in the window, the lights on the walls, and the beam from the device.

Miles carefully begins to descend, squinting through the heavy cloud of dust that had settled over the entire chamber. The first thing he sees when he reaches the floor is an oversized viridescent hand protruding from a mountain of rubble. Miles’ heart plummets as he realizes the hand belongs to the apparently dead Green Goblin. _If the Goblin is here… where’s Spider-Man?_ Miles wonders anxiously, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of the wall-crawler. A muted flash of red just beyond the Goblin’s hand catches Miles attention, and sure enough, it’s Spider-Man, his body propped limply against a piece of the broken wall. His tattered suit is stained with dirt and blood, one of the lenses on the mask completely shattered. Miles’ breath catches in his throat and he sprints towards the man, not quite sure if he’s dead or just unconscious.

“Hey!” he calls as he kneels beside the man. He’s relieved to see Spider-Man’s head move slightly as he approaches. “You okay?”

As soon as Miles asks the question, he feels stupid. Spider-Man had just taken an explosion to the face and then fallen dozens of yards onto a heap of metal and concrete. Sure, he was tough, but Miles was certain that not even Spider-Man could take that much damage and immediately pick himself back up.

Regardless, Spider-Man turns to face Miles and manages to say, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just resting,” casually waving his hand as if the whole thing is no big deal.

“Can’t you get up?” Miles asks. Another dumb question. It almost feels as though his body and his mouth are detached from each other, with his brain attempting to be rational, and his mouth running on pure terror.

“Yeah,” Spider-Man says with a wry chuckle, slumping back onto the cement behind him. “Yeah, I always get up.”

He coughs suddenly, startling Miles. Miles has spent enough time with his mom at the hospital to know that coughing is always a bad sign, especially when some form of trauma is involved. Spider-Man’s condition is likely a lot worse than Miles had initially assumed.

“The coughing’s probably not a good sign,” Spider-Man wheezes, as if he can hear what Miles is thinking.

A noise over Miles’ shoulder draws both of their attention. A couple of distant flashlight beams appear to be searching the wreckage for Spider-Man. Miles dreads to think what might happen if their search is successful.

“Listen,” Spider-man whispers urgently, grabbing Miles’ arm. “We gotta team up here, we don’t have much time. This override key is the only way to stop the collider.” He presses a flash drive into Miles’ hand. “Swing up there, use this key, push the button, and blow it up.” Spider-Man pauses for a moment, probably realizing that this is a lot of information to take in. After a second or two has passed, he swallows and resumes issuing instructions. “You need to hide your face. You don’t tell anyone who you are. _Nobody can know_. He’s got everyone in his pocket.”

It _is_ a lot of information to take it. A few hours ago, Miles’ biggest worry had been his essay, and now apparently he has to, what, _save Brooklyn?_ All Miles can get in before the masked man continues speaking is a squeaky, “What?”

“If he turns the machine on again, everything you know will disappear. Your family… everyone. _Everyone_. Promise me you’ll do this?”

A single pale blue eye is visible through the shattered lens of the mask. It wanders over Miles’ face as if it’s searching for something, an answer to the question perhaps. Miles clenches his jaw in determination. “I promise.”

“ _Go,”_ Spider-Man says, his voice strained. “Destroy the Collider, I’ll come and find you.”

Miles stands, slowly turning back the way he’d come. He takes a few hesitant steps into the clearing, but then he stops, turning back to face the injured man on the ground.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Spider-Man coughs, apparently noticing Miles’ reluctance to leave him.

Miles stands still in the center of the gloomy clearing, the key Spider-Man had given him gripped tightly in his palm. He glances up at the colossal machine, deliberating for a moment whether he should run and hide, or stay and try to help Spider-Man.

As quickly as possible, he weighs the options in his mind. It’s an impossible decision. On one hand, he could get himself to safety a _nd_ save Brooklyn from apparently being sucked into a black hole, but on the _other_ hand… Spider-Man is dying; that much is clear to Miles. Despite his insistence that everything is going to be fine, the man’s breathing is becoming more labored by the second, so if Miles is going to save him he’ll have to act fast. Looking back towards the still form slumped against the debris, Miles makes his decision.

Miles turns and jogs lightly back towards the injured man. He kneels beside him once again, leaning forward slightly so that he can speak without being heard by the owners of the distant flashlight beams. Patches of ashy skin are visible through the small tears in Spider-Man’s mask. His one visible eye is closed, his chest scarcely rising and falling. Miles is running out of time.

“Hey,” he whispers urgently. “Uh... Spider-Man, wake up.”

The man’s eye blinks open sluggishly. “Kid? What are you still doing here, I told you to hide!” His words slur together, but there’s an obvious note of panic in his voice.

“I couldn’t just leave you here!” Miles exclaims as quietly as possible. “You’re- you’re _dying_ , man!”

“No, you need to leave, _now,”_ comes Spider-Man’s harsh reply. “I’ll be fine but you have to go.”

Miles fights the urge to roll his eyes at the obviously false assurance.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine once I _get you out of here,”_ Miles says, already starting to pull the larger bits of wreckage off Spider-Man’s body.

Miles had expected Spider-Man to keep arguing with him, but after Miles’ last statement the man had gone quiet. Miles glances back at Spider-Man’s face and notices that his eye is closed again and that he somehow looks even paler than before. Apparently doing something as simple as _talking_ is draining his energy at this point. Miles notes the labored rise and fall of his chest. At least he’s still with Miles, for now.

Miles stands and begins to stoop to lift the man, but then he stops. With a police officer for a father and a nurse for a mother, Miles is knowledgeable of all sorts of emergency procedures. His mind races as he tries to determine the best way to carry Spider-Man to safety. In most cases, you don’t want to try to move an injured person unless they’re in immediate danger. _Check,_ he thinks. He remembers something his mom had once told him: if the person you need to move has or even _may_ have a spinal injury you have to be _extremely_ careful about how you transport their body. If Miles had to guess, he would say that the likelihood of the man on the ground in front of him having sustained some sort of injury to his spine is _very_ high, which makes the task in front of him exponentially more difficult. His mind wanders back to the idea of turning and running away, but he quickly brushes it off. He feels obligated to save Spider-Man. At this point in the game, there’s no turning back.

Suddenly, Miles remembers his abilities. If Spider-Man has enhanced strength, why shouldn’t he? As gently as he can manage, Miles slides an arm under Spider-Man’s knees and another behind his upper back, carefully lifting the man until Miles is standing in an upright position. He briefly registers how ridiculous he probably looks: a kid, barely 5’5, carrying a fully-grown Spider-Man in his arms as if _he_ were the child. Miles might have laughed if the situation wasn’t so absolutely terrifying.

Miles gingerly takes a few steps forward before he realizes how close the voices and lights are getting. _Crap,_ he thinks to himself. He had been so wrapped up in how to deal with Spider-Man that he had forgotten about the people that were out there looking for him. He figures he has about 20 seconds to get himself and Spider-Man out of sight or they’ll both be toast. Miles sprints across the clearing, focusing all his attention into keeping his footfalls silent and keeping the limp body in his arms as still as possible. Miles is certain that without his recently amplified strength, he wouldn’t have made it very far before running out of energy. Miles glances up at the formidable mountain of debris in front of them and hastily decides that it’s better to find a way around than to try to clamber up the unstable wreckage with a body in his arms.

He silently runs past where the Green Goblin’s hand is protruding from the wreckage. It’s kind of weird to think that Green Goblin is _dead._ Miles had seen reports on the news about him fighting Spider-Man for as he could remember, and now here he is, crushed under a couple tons of solid cement. It feels like an unsatisfactory ending for such a prominent enemy.

Just as Miles rounds a corner, the voices break into the clearing where he and Spider-Man had been seconds before. The people that had come into view are the large man from the window, the man in the purple suit that had fought Spider-Man on the Collider, and an albino man that Miles doesn’t recognize. Despite knowing that he was able to get them out of sight in time, Miles feels a twinge of panic start to tickle the back of his neck. Or maybe it’s that new sensation he’s been experiencing lately, he isn’t completely sure.

Miles uses the coverage of the debris to put the escape on hold and check in on Spider-Man. Needless to say, it’s not good. His skin still gives off a faint grayish tint and feels cool to the touch. From what he can see through the small tears in the mask, the man looks pretty dead to Miles. The only confirmation that he’s still alive for the time being is the pathetic wheezes that slip out of his mouth every few seconds.

Miles turns his attention back to the room in front of them, eyes scanning the distant walls for any indication of an exit. Finally, he spots what he’s looking for: the familiar green glow of an exit sign. Taking a deep breath, he hurries towards it, making as little sound as humanly possible. Spider-Man groans softly and Miles slows down significantly, concerned about further injuring the man. To his surprise, Spider-Man raises his head slightly and in the weakest voice Miles has ever heard, croaks out, “don’t… stop… moving.”

 _Man,_ Miles thinks. _That accelerated healing stuff really is a miracle, huh?_ But apparently, Spider-Man only had the energy to utter those three words before slipping back into unconsciousness. Miles heaves a sigh and picks up the pace as instructed. They’re about 10 paces from the exit sign when the prickle on the back of his neck goes wild, a sharp ringing noise echoing wildly in his skull. It takes all of Miles’ willpower to not dump the body in his arms onto the ground and clamp his hands over his ears. Instead, he grits his teeth and continues sprinting towards the exit. He’s faintly aware of something directly behind him, but he doesn’t dare turn around and see what it is. All he knows is that he has to get out of this building. Finally, he reaches his destination, awkwardly shifting his hold on Spider-Man in order to shove the door open.

A blast of cold air breaches his lungs, but he can’t slow down. He isn’t even sure where he’s headed. A hospital? Probably not a good idea for a man with a secret identity. So… what? Just go home? Sure, his mom could take a look at him, but his _dad…_ Miles dreads to think how his dad might react to Miles bringing _Spider-Man_ of all people into their home. And on a school night too.  He’s shaken out of his thoughts by another wave of that _look-out-there’s-someone-right-behind-you_ feeling, and hurriedly ducks onto a side street that he knows will lead him towards home. _Home it is,_ he decides and runs into the night.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The city needs Spider-Man, and everyone knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rio Morales is the hbic of the world and that's that on that!
> 
> Sorry it took me 5953405 years to update this, I kinda got bored with it for a bit but then I remembered how much I love ripeter so I came back :') Hopefully the third chapter won't take as long for me to get up, but I make no promises
> 
> also i wrote this chapter in like 2 hours and i barely proofread it so... i may or may not be back to edit it during the week lol

“Dad… do you really hate Spider-Man?”

The simple question takes Jeff by surprise as he turns to face his son. 

“Miles, you know how I feel about Spider-Man. We’ve been over this  _ hundreds _ of times.”

Miles sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah dad, I know. I just thought that maybe…”

“You thought this would change anything? It doesn’t, Miles. Look, I know you admire him, and I know he’s hurt, but that doesn’t change the fact that his whole  _ thing _ involves breaking the law, and I can’t support that. You know that.”

“Okay, dad,” Miles grumbles. “I get it.”

A tense hush falls over the living room where the two are sitting. After a moment, the silence is broken by Jeff.

“So, uh… where did you find him? Because there’s no way he got hurt that badly at the school _.” _

Miles visibly winces at the statement, the reaction more or less confirming Jeff’s suspicions that Miles had been sneaking out at night.

“Yeah…” he begins tentatively. “I was just, uh, out and about, ya know? With some friends from school. And there was a… a building that had, like, collapsed? You know, from the earthquake? That’s where I found him.” 

Jeff narrows his eyes. “Why do you sound so unsure? Are you telling me or asking me?”

“That’s what happened, dad.”

Jeff is willing to drop it. For now. 

_ This is your son. Not a perp, _ he reminds himself.  _ Try being a little less, I dunno, accusative?  _

He clears his throat. “Soooo... How was your day at school?”

Miles gives him a look that clearly says  _ Really, dad? Now? _

Jeff opens his mouth to defend himself against the look, but he’s cut off by the sound of a door opening across the hallway. He and Miles both stand abruptly as Rio reappears at the opposite end of the living room. 

She looks worn out, a mixture of the time of night and the energy she had spent over the last hour or two trying to keep Spider-Man alive with whatever tools she had on-hand. Her hands and shirt are faintly stained with blood, which makes Jeff’s heart sink ever so slightly.

“Well?” he asks, his dislike for Spider-Man failing to restrain the curiosity and concern that he feels.

“He’s awake,” Rio says simply before turning back to the bedroom. 

Miles is off like a shot, practically sprinting across the living room and through the door to his own bedroom, leaving Jeff alone in the living room. He feels awkward about joining the others in the room, but he feels just as awkward being the only one  _ not  _ in the room. 

Deciding that his presence would be more hindrance than help, Jeff takes a seat on the couch and waits.

 

______________________

 

Pain. That’s the first thing to fully register with Peter when he regains consciousness. Every inch of his body aches, with even the smallest amount of movement making his muscles contract. The light shining through his eyelids is enough to give him a piercing headache, so he chooses not to open his eyes just yet. 

He attempts to prop himself up on an elbow, but his arm is shaking too much to really do any good. When had he ever been this weak before? What had  _ happened  _ to him?

Peter strains his memory, trying to remember how he had gotten… wherever he is.

His recent memories feel fuzzy, only brief flashes of things that had happened sticking out to him. 

_ Norman,  _ he recalls, remembering bits and pieces of a fight with the hulking green monster. He had definitely been there. There’d been… a kid? He’s positive that Kingpin had been involved somehow too. But how did it all tie together? And how did he end up here? He lets out a low groan of frustration at his memory’s lack of cooperation, which only adds to the ache in his chest. He coughs suddenly, and the familiar coppery taste of blood begins to crawl its way up his throat. The coughing fit ends, leaving him gasping for breath.

“Shh, it’s okay,” a soothing voice assures him from somewhere in the room. The voice startles Peter into opening his eyes, which he immediately regrets. The light fixture overhead probably isn’t all that bright in reality, but right now it feels like Peter is staring directly into the sun. He squeezes his eyes shut again before he’s able to take in anything else in the room. Bright colorful spots dance across his eyelids, making him feel sick. He lies still for a moment, directing all of his remaining strength into not throwing up. 

“I’ll be right back,” the voice says, and Peter is vaguely aware of the sound of a door opening. Moments later, the door opens again, preceded by the sound of heavy hurried footfalls.

“Spider-Man?” a new voice asks uncertainly.

Peter clenches his jaw, resolving to open his eyes. His spider-sense isn’t going off, so he’s not  _ really _ in danger, but the feeling of being surrounded by people that he’s unable to see makes him anxious nonetheless. 

“ _ Do you... think you could... turn the light off _ ?” he manages to get out. Peter is taken aback by just how  _ bad _ his voice sounds. His words are hardly more than hoarse gasps, slurred together by the thick coating of blood on his tongue.

A faint  _ click _ sounds and the painful orange light behind his eyes fades to a much more manageable violet. He sighs and slowly blinks his eyes open. Two pairs of eyes stare back at him, a woman, evidently the owner of the voice he had heard first, and a young boy. He inhales sharply as he recognizes the boy and some of his memories from the night come flooding back.

_ I fought the Green Goblin. Met the kid. Fought the Prowler. The Collider turned on. Norman tried to kill me? The Collider exploded. I was hurt. The kid got me out. _

The gasp of realization sends Peter into another coughing fit. He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against the sharp pain that the choking sends through his upper body. For once, the mask isn’t doing him any favors by covering his face. The material is breathable enough under usual circumstances, but then again, Peter doesn’t often find himself practically hacking his lungs out. 

He reaches up, intending to push the mask back just far enough to allow him to breathe, but his arm is so  _ so _ weak. It drops uselessly onto his chest, sending another wave of pain and nausea over him once again. Peter’s head goes light as the edges of his vision darken significantly.  _ Oh great, broken ribs,  _ he thinks grimly.  _ Why is it  _ always _ the ribs? _

He forces his eyes open once more, glancing between the two people in front of him. “Would one of you… mind… pushing my mask up?” he pants. “Not all the way, just… just enough for me to… breathe.”

The kid glances at his mother, who nods, before sitting down on the edge of the bed beside Peter. The movement makes him wince, but he doesn’t make a sound. He can feel the kid’s fingers gingerly peeling up the mask, and a rush of cool air quickly finds its way to the exposed portion of his face. Once the mask has uncovered his mouth and nose, the kid stops and steps away. 

Peter lays unmoving on the bed, sucking in deep gulps of cold air. After a moment he turns his attention back to the pair in the room.

“What happened to me?” he croaks. “Where are we?”

The kid steps forward. “You were, uh…” he glances at his mom. “Caught in an earthquake. You were unconscious, so I took you here. My house,” he adds.

That doesn’t sound quite right to Peter, but judging from the look that the kid had given his mother, he had probably been out doing something he shouldn’t have when he found Peter. Peter remembers just enough to know what had really happened. The Collider had exploded with him in it. No earthquake.

“You were hurt pretty bad,” the kid continues, “so I took you here. My mom’s a nurse, so she knew what she was doing, don’t worry.”

The woman places a hand on the kid’s shoulder, indicating for him to be quiet and give her a chance to speak. “I did everything I could for you here, but you’re still in no condition to jump right back into... whatever it is you do.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Peter mumbles. Clearly, the woman had been able to keep him from dying, so that was  _ something.  _ It doesn’t change the fact that he can feel a countless number of things that are still wrong with him. That doesn’t matter here though. Peter is well-equipped to deal with things like broken bones and cuts at home. He feels guilty about intruding upon this family so late at night, even though the kid had been the one to bring him here in the first place.

“Well,” he says, trying once again to push himself into a sitting position. He’s slightly more successful this time around, but his arms still tremble far more than normal. “You guys have been great,  _ truly _ . I appreciate everything you’ve done. I’d love to be able to pay you back somehow, but I don’t have any money on me at the moment.”

“You’re leaving?” the kid asks incredulously. “You were  _ dying _ like five minutes ago!”

“Accelerated healing, kiddo. Works wonders _.”  _ Peter hopes that the pained edge in his voice isn’t obvious. Sure, he  _ does _ tend to heal faster than your average person, but his abilities can only help so much under circumstances such as these. He’s really not in any condition to get himself home right now, but he just feels…  _ bad _ about being here, like he’s intruding. 

He slowly swings his legs off the edge of the bed. 

“Spider-Man, I really think you should stay here for the night. You can sleep on the couch if you want,” the lady says, putting out a hand to steady him as he pulls himself fully upright on the bed. 

“Nah, I’ll be alright,” he assures her, taking a moment to catch his breath. “Besides, my wife will be worried sick if I don’t make it back home before morning.”

Wincing, Peter braces himself against the bed frame and pulls himself to his feet. “Again, I really appreci —”

He’d stood up too quickly. The last thing he registers before his eyes roll back into his head are the two people calling Spider-Man’s name as they rush to catch him.

 

______________________

 

“Let’s just bring him to the couch, okay  _ Mijo?”  _ Rio says, grunting slightly as she lifts the man by the armpits. “Grab his feet.”

Miles nods and obediently takes hold of Spider-Man’s ankles, following Rio out of the room. 

His dad stands up as they enter the room again, dragging Spider-Man’s limp body between them. 

“What happened?” Jeff asks. “I thought you said he was awake?”

“He  _ was _ awake,” Rio corrects. 

“He tried to leave and ended up passing out,” Miles tells him. “Is it okay if he stays here on the couch for the night?”

His dad seems to hesitate for a moment, but finally, he sighs and offers a reasonable reply. “Alright, alright, he can stay. But only for tonight. I’ll drop him wherever he needs to be in the morning.”

“Thanks, dad,” Miles smiles as he crosses to the couch with his mom, gently laying the man down on the cushions, taking care that he’s propped up comfortably against the armrest.

Miles grabs a couple of thick wool blankets and a spare pillow from a nearby cupboard, and he and his mom set to work making sure Spider-Man will be as comfortable as possible on the small sofa. The unconscious man groans and his fingers twitch sporadically as they get him situated, but he doesn’t wake up.

When they’re finished Miles looks up to see his mom staring at him expectantly, tapping her watch. 

“Miles, do you see the time?” she says. “You need to be in bed with your lights out in 15 minutes. It’s still a school night. I can come help you change out the sheets in just a moment.”

“Okay,  _ Mami. Buenas Noches,” _ he responds, coming around the couch to kiss her cheek. “Night, dad,” he adds on his way out of the room. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Miles,” his dad replies, smiling fondly. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

Miles rolls his eyes. “I know, dad, I’m not seven years old. Goodnight!”

He throws one more glance over his shoulder at Spider-Man as he’s leaving. The rise and fall of his chest seems more regular than it had been before, which is a relief. Miles had been really concerned when he had first brought the man to his mom. She’d immediately had him brought into Miles room and then instructed Miles and his dad to wait in the living room until she finished. Every now and then she’d call out for one of them to fetch something for her, whether it was a damp towel or two or a lighter to sterilize a needle or just whatever other medical supplies she had around the house. Miles had felt helpless, but his mom was a resourceful woman. A few hours was all it took for her to bring the man back from the brink of death with only a few supplies from home. Miles feels a surge of gratitude and respect for his mom as he goes back into his room. 

The bed had been covered with a thick canvas tarp before he had brought Spider-Man into the room, but it hadn’t been able to everything off the sheets. He bunches up the tarp and the blood-stained covers underneath, dumping them in a pile outside his door. He gets all ready for bed and helps his mom change out the sheets. They end up flipping the mattress since some of the heavier puddles had soaked through the tarp  _ and _ the sheets. 

As they finish up, Rio kisses Miles’ forehead and whispers a gentle “ _ Buenas Noches, Mijo,” _ to him as she flips the light off. 

“Night, _Mami,”_ he calls back. Yawning, he turns over so that his back is facing the wall. He squints to make out the time on the clock across from his bed. _1:57,_ it reads; no wonder he’s so tired. He closes his eyes and pulls the covers up under his armpits. It had been a long night for Miles. It almost seemed like the whole incident with the Collider had been _days_ ago, rather than a few hours. 

He thinks about the man curled up on the couch in the other room, hoping that he’ll be alright after his dad takes him away in the morning. He’s not sure what they’ll do if he isn’t okay. The city needs Spider-Man, and everyone knows it, even his dad probably, deep down. 

Miles allows his thoughts to wander and he finally drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already, feel free to check out my other fic that I published earlier this week called "To the End". It takes place during the events of itsv and it involves Jameson reacting to Peter's death. You can find that [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005096).
> 
> Edit: somehow some of the formatting on this chapter got messed up and idk how to fix it :/ sorry guys

**Author's Note:**

> please go easy on me lol this is literally the first time I've ever written something like this! Critiques are welcome since the free version of grammarly is my beta reader atm and I don't trust it ://


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